After a disappointing trip to Macy’s today to buy casual shirts, Chaos Boy decided to ask the Mall Concierge for help.
CB: Where do the gays shop? (That’s right: “gays,” not “guys.” He walked right up and asked that without so much as a “hello.”)
MC: Hillcrest. Google <insert zip code>.
I overheard this exchange from the parking validation machine. Not wanting Chaos Boy to have a sad (and not wanting to go on a fucking quest for shirts that WERE NOT EVEN FOR ME, I approached the concierge.
DP: My husband (pointing at Chaos Boy) isn’t actually gay, more like gay adjacent…
I had to stop talking until the concierge stopped laughing and glancing from me to Chaos Boy. When I explained that what he meant when he asked for help was that he wanted some brightly colored shirts that buttoned and were preferably patterned, something Macy’s had somewhere between zero and zero of, our friendly mall concierge saw the light and directed up to a couple of shops, one of which was Express where we met Gonzalo. It was a win all around. Chaos Boy found shirts. Gonzalo (the adorbs salesguy) got to make a sale. And I got to make Gonzalo laugh when I said I was “pretty sure” Chaos Boy is straight.
Don’t you just love shopping? And marriage? And hot pink shirts for men?